


Dean, 2 pm

by sternchencas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6170542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/pseuds/sternchencas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is done with his life. He's ready to end it all. The only thing that might be able to change his mind is one little note in his calendar that says 'Dean, 2 pm'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean, 2 pm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoIEverForgetThePie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoIEverForgetThePie/gifts).



> Inspired by [Ashley](http://hotdiddlydean.tumblr.com/). This is one of the darkest things I've ever written, but I hope it can bring some light.

Cas is standing in front of Dean's door, not entirely sure how he even got here.

 

***

 

This morning has been one of the worst in Castiel's life. When he got up, everything felt wrong. Not real. Even his sadness was gone, replaced with emptiness, a big dark hole deep in his soul. He was ready to end it all.

It wasn't the first time he thought about suicide. He's been collecting ideas how to do it and tried to visualize how it would feel. He contemplated the different outcomes and what the world would be like without him. This time was different, though. There was nothing technical about it. No whats, hows and what ifs. In his mind, it became a decision rather than an option.

He's been sitting at his kitchen table, watching the white wall and feeling at peace for the first time in years. His body acted on its own when he stood up and walked over to the counter to get one of his sharpest knives. He knew exactly what to do with it considering how often he had to keep himself from doing it before. No holding back today.

Knife in hand, Cas lifted his head and watched the hands of his clock running their endless circles, just like he did for years. But he's going to take the batteries out. The only thing he promised himself was to take note when exactly it was time. That's what the doctors do. Time of death, March 5th, 10:27 am.

Cas contemplated waiting for three minutes. He always had a thing for round numbers. But then again, who would even know? It's going to take time to find him, and they are going to put his time of death somewhere between two numbers. Probably numbers Cas doesn't like. They will take his last wish from him like many other things in his life.

10:28. He should have just done it. It doesn't matter anyway.

10:29. Another number made its way into Cas' mind. 2 pm.

His focus shifted from the clock to the calendar on the kitchen door. He likes to keep track of things, and the little box for March 5th shows an entry, written in green marker. ' _Dean, 2 pm_.'

A week ago, Dean invited Cas to come by and watch a movie. Dean doesn't keep track of time like Cas does. He always says things like 'See you this afternoon.' or 'Let's hang out later.' Cas asked him when to meet, and Dean said, "2 or 3, your pick." Dean knows that Cas likes to have a specific time, so he lets him decide. Cas chose 2 pm. He likes the 2, and it makes him anxious to wait for something.

He could have still ended it, though. By the time Dean noticed that Cas won't come, he will be long gone. He'd be someplace else, wherever that might be.

 

***

 

Cas is standing in front of Dean's door, not entirely sure how he even got here. The only thing he remembers is his clock. It showed 10:31 am, and he felt like he missed his mark. And Dean's voice when he said 'your pick' kept ringing in his ears. It made him put the knife away.

Now he's here, watching his wristwatch. When the numbers change to 2 pm, he rings the doorbell. Dean opens just seconds later and smiles, "Hey, Cas. Right on time. I had a feeling you go for the 2. Come in."

Cas walks past Dean but stops a few steps in. He didn't take the batteries out, but they are still drained. Every other step feels so heavy. Dean closes the door and almost runs into Cas, "You wanna get comfy on the couch or-?" He doesn't finish the question when he looks at Cas again. His usual cheer leaves him and gets replaced by concern. "Hey man, you're okay?"

Usually, Cas says 'yes'. Even now, he could make up a story. I'm just tired, I had a rough day, something happened on the way over. But Cas is even too tired to lie. "This morning, I tried to kill myself. I was so close. But then I remembered your invitation, and now I'm here."

This is by far the worst thing he has ever said to somebody, and he immediately regrets saying it. Carefully, Cas watches Dean, waiting to be thrown out or laughed at. Dean doesn't laugh. He stares at Cas like he's seeing him after being apart for years, "I'm glad you didn't do it. Damn, Cas, I would have missed you so much."

"Really?" The word escapes Cas' mouth, and Dean's face turns from worried over angry to reassuring, "Are you kidding me? Man, you're my best friend. And I'm sorry that I don't say these things ... and ... fuck, I'm so sorry I've never asked how you're doing. I just thought you'd tell me if something was wrong."

Cas nods. Dean has a point. But Cas doesn't feel good about sharing his feelings, "You're always so full of energy, and you're happy. I didn't want to make you feel bad."

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean sighs dramatically and throws his hands in the air like he can't believe what he's hearing, "All day, I move shit around at the docks, and I hate working for Alastair. The only thing that gets me through the day are memories of your cat stories and the conversations we had over dinner. I'm happy about seeing you in the evening, and I have the energy to cook because you like my food. You are so important. If you died, you'd take a piece of me with you."

Of course, Cas knew that Dean likes him in a way. They're friends after all. But he never thought he'd be so important to Dean. He should thank him for the kind words, but instead, he bursts into tears.

At first, Dean waits next to him, not sure what to do. Only when Cas can't calm himself down, Dean carefully touches his shoulder, "Hey, it's okay. Let's get you to the couch, all right?"

Barely touching him, Dean gets Cas into the living room and makes him sit down on the sofa. He sits next to him, continually offering him tissues, and unused to being cared for, Cas sobs even more. After a while, Dean starts to talk. He tells Cas over and over again that everything is going to be okay and that he just needs to let it all out. In between, he asks Cas if it's alright to touch him and Cas manages a broken 'yes'.

Dean wraps him in his arms, carefully stroking his back. And he keeps talking, "I think you made a right choice today. And now we're going to make you feel better, okay?"

Cas can't speak, but Dean doesn't wait for an answer. He carefully rocks Cas in his arms and pads his hair. He only lets go off Cas when he has to get new tissues and holds him again when Cas finishes blowing his nose. A calm silence falls over them, and Dean's voice sounds out of place and rough when he speaks again, "I know this is the worst possible moment to say this, but there's a reason I invited you today. It's just that I love you, and I felt like you should know."

When the words start to make sense in his head, Cas freezes. He still can't talk and fears Dean might change his mind if Cas doesn't answer. Dean keeps holding him, though, and leans his head against Cas, "We could meet more often if you want. Tomorrow, we could go to your place and write some dates into your calendar. I can't be home from work so early all the time, but maybe 6 is possible. Four plus two sounds good to me. What do you think?"

Cas takes a deep breath, hoping his voice will hold, "I'd like that."

"Good. It's a date."

His smile is visible in Dean's voice, and Cas finally understands what his friend tried to tell him. It's not that Cas would forcefully take a piece of Dean with him if he died. He already has the piece because Dean gave it to him willingly.

"Dean?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to kill myself anymore."

Dean squeezes Cas a little tighter and plants a soft kiss on Cas' hair, "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"Talk to me? Whatever you want to do, it's your decision, but please talk to me. Okay?"

"Okay."

Cas leans into Dean, like making a promise and although he knows that he's not fine all of a sudden, he learned something important today. Whatever you're suffering from, you are not alone.


End file.
